


Small Comfort

by CuriousThimble



Series: Anders and FemHawke Shorts [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 23:04:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15035279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriousThimble/pseuds/CuriousThimble
Summary: Anders and Hawke share a peaceful moment at home alone.





	Small Comfort

“Your hair is getting long.”

 

Hawke watched him in the mirror as Anders wrapped his arms around her. “I know,” she said softly, looking back to the mirror. She normally kept it short, but since her mother had died, she’d let it grow past her shoulders. “Mother used to cut it for me...I used to take a dagger and just hack it away, but she…” Emotion tightened her throat, and she closed her eyes, turning her face away from her reflection.

 

Anders’ arms tightened, and he rested his chin on her shoulder. “I could do it for you,” he offered.

 

She opened her eyes, looking at him over her shoulder. “Would...would you?”

 

“I can try,” he said, stepping back. “And if I make a horrible mess, I’ll use magic to fix it.”

 

She smiled at his joke and sat at her dressing table while he opened his shaving kit. It was a present from her when he moved in- she showered gifts on him- and she liked the clean scent the soap left on him in the morning. The only sounds in the room were the crackling fire and the long razor along the leather strap as he sharpened it. Watching the back-and-forth motion he made soothed the ache inside and gave her something else to focus on.

 

“When I was in the circle, I used to cut my friends’ hair,” he told her, checking the blade. “It was shit at first, but the more I did it, the better it got.” He took a deep breath and picked up a lock of hair. “Let’s hope I haven’t lost the touch.”

 

Hawke closed her eyes as he worked, not caring how it looked. Having Anders here the last two years had made it easier; he knew when she needed space, and always showed up when being alone was the last thing she wanted. Varric had told her that Anders was looking better since moving to Hightown- “better food, better sleep, and a woman makes all the difference” were his words- and it was true. Anders had put on some weight, and the heavy shadows under his eyes were fading. She knew that he would never fully recover- the weight of his actions were too great for that, but she liked knowing that he was at least healthier in her care.

 

“I never thought I’d be happy,” he said as he worked. “But being with you...this is a dream, Hawke. I’m only sorry we have to keep the curtains closed all the time.”

 

“I’m not,” Hawke chuckled, keeping her eyes closed. “I’ve seen our neighbors naked one too many times.”

 

He snorted in amusement and ran his fingers through her hair. Hawke hadn't trusted anyone with her hair since her mother died, but the careful way he sliced the weight away made even her soul feel a little lighter. 

 

Anders knew he was the only one who ever saw her without her mask of strength. Even Varric never saw her vulnerable, and they were closer than anyone. Hawke had made certain that she looked unstoppable to everyone, but here, at home with him, she let those walls down. She still grieved for her mother, but knowing she allowed him to help her- someone who had helped him so much...that was special.

 

“There you are,” he said, admiring his work. “Take a look, sweetheart.”

 

Hawke opened her eyes and smiled. “I look like myself again,” she said, reaching up and brushing her fingers along her bare neck. It was a small comfort, seeing herself this way again. “Thank you.”

 

He smiled down at her and brushed the hair off. “Just as beautiful as the day you walked into my clinic and stole my heart,” he chuckled.

 

“I seem to remember you doing your best to get rid of me,” she laughed, turning to look up at him. “You even pretended not to know what Grey Warden I was talking about.”

 

“Can you blame me?”

 

She shook her head and stood, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m just very glad I’m persistent.”

 

“Me too, sweetheart,” he murmurs, kissing her. 


End file.
